


Links in the Chain

by hopefulwriter27



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-10
Updated: 2010-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-07 03:58:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefulwriter27/pseuds/hopefulwriter27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uther dominates Merlin. Sequel to At the King's Mercy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Links in the Chain

**Author's Note:**

> for dom!Uther/Merlin prompt at

  
  
  
**Entry tags:**|   
[fanfiction](http://hopefulwriter27.livejournal.com/tag/fanfiction), [merlin](http://hopefulwriter27.livejournal.com/tag/merlin), [merlin/uther](http://hopefulwriter27.livejournal.com/tag/merlin/uther), [nc-17](http://hopefulwriter27.livejournal.com/tag/nc-17)  
  
---|---  
  
_**Links in the Chain, NC-17**_

**Title**: Links in the Chain

**Rating**: NC-17

**Pairing**: Merlin/Uther

**Summary**: Uther dominates Merlin. Sequel to At the King’s Mercy

**Author’s Notes:** for dom!Uther/Merlin prompt at

[](http://community.livejournal.com/kinkme_merlin/profile)[**kinkme_merlin**](http://community.livejournal.com/kinkme_merlin/) 

              

               Merlin follows the king’s orders. He shows up, albeit reluctantly, as the last of the sun’s golden-pink rays disappear from the sky. Glistening oil shimmers around the curve of his thumb and forefinger, where in his haste to pour it into a glass vial, he’d miscalculated, and spilled the liquid. He’s starting down at his shining hand, wondering why he didn’t wipe it off, when Uther opens his bedroom door.

                A disapproving sneer mars the king’s face when he says, “I see you’ve came. Where’s the chain?”

                Merlin lifts up the cloth pouch he’s been holding and almost shakes the bag. He stops himself at the last second, remembering that Uther is not Arthur, and would not appreciate any wit. Instead, Merlin diverts the shake by holding out his other hand, the glistening one, and shows Uther the oil. Highlighted by the light sneaking out of Uther’s chambers, Merlin notices that the oil is the exact same color as the gold on Uther’s crown.  

                Uther says nothing, but sweeps around and walks back into his chambers. Merlin is left to follow. With a glance around the hallway, Merlin does.  “Shut the door.” Uther’s voice is deeper than normal, and that sends a fission of, well _something_, down Merlin’s spine. 

                Merlin follows the order.  When the door snaps shut Merlin looks around. He’s been in Uther’s bedroom once before, but that was with Gauis during the day, and he’d been focused on saving the king’s life. Taking in the décor hadn’t been a top priority. Despite that, Merlin doesn’t remember the room being quite so, _dark_, for better lack of term. There’s a humble fire crackling in the fireplace, but still, shadows dominate, hiding the far corner where Uther had gone to stand. Dark purple drapes cover the window, blocking the moon’s natural glow.

                “Come here,” Uther commands.

                Pouch and vial clutched in either hand, Merlin treks forward. “Umm, sire, I’m not sure…” Merlin begins.

                “Stop talking.” The words cut Merlin off.  “You’ll talk when I give you permission to talk.” Merlin swallows hard, then nods. He stops when he realizes Uther isn’t even looking at him.  “Give me the oil and chain.”

                Merlin stops an arm’s length from the king and holds out his offerings. Quick as a snake, Uther grabs Merlin’s wrist with one hand and takes the oil with the other.  His grip is tight enough to hurt. Merlin opens his mouth to complain, but ends up looking like a fish when Uther’s eyes flash. The king pushes forward, pressing Merlin back, until his hip bumps into the bed. Merlin drops the pouch. The sound pounds across the room, louder than it ought to be.

Uther sets the vial onto the nightstand says, “Pick it up.”

Merlin wants to ask him to move back, to give him some space. He knows that won’t go over well. Instead he crouches, praying that he doesn’t topple over sideways, and comes face-to-face with Uther’s groin. The smooth leather pants brush Merlin’s cheek as he grasps the pouch. He watches, a bit mesmerized, as the cloth stretches outwards, like Merlin had awaken something living inside and it was desperate to greet him. If he turned just an inch, he could mouth that growing thing through the cloth.

“Take it out.” Merlin almost reaches for Uther’s pants, but changes directions when he realizes Uther is talking about the chain. Jangling as Merlin pulls it out, the polished silver captures the flickering light of the fireplace and shines just as brightly, if not differently, as the oil. It’s long enough that once Merlin fit all he can in the palm of his hand, the rest dangles to floor, coiling like a metal serpent.

Still on his knees, back against the bed, Merlin glances at Uther from under his long eyelashes. The king’s face is tight, his shoulders squared. Hands glove free, he reaches down and threads his hand through Merlin’s hair. He tugs Merlin’s head back, staring at the long line of Merlin’s throat. Merlin’s heart chooses that time to speed up, and he accidently drops the pouch again. This time it’s silent as it touches the floor. They both ignore it.

“Get on the bed.” Merlin scrambles to obey. Bumping his shin on the wooden frame, Merlin finally settles against the headboard, resting amongst the many red pillows. _My blood would blend right into these, _Merlin thinks with a shiver. Placing a balancing knee on the bed, Uther reaches over and pulls the chain from Merlin’s hand. Each link bumps Merlin’s palm, warm and smooth. A long minute passes as Uther wraps the chain neatly around his forearm.

“Strip.” The only time Merlin loses sight of Uther’s piercing gaze his is when he yanks off his scarf and shirt in one rough go. His fingers are sweat-slick when he gets to his pants, and he has to rub them down the length of his thigh before untying his belt and tugging off his breeches.  Goosebumps pop along Merlin’s arms and leg, and his nipples harden. The room isn’t cold.

The bed dips as Uther slides on. He swings one muscled leg- still fully clothed- over Merlin then traps Merlin’s own skinny legs between his. He leans forward until his chest hovers over Merlin’s head.  Then he commands, “Raise your arms.” Merlin looks up, and for the first time notices the sturdy brass ring set into the headboard, a few feet above him. Then he notices the other two. One is to his left, the other on his right, both a swords length away. An unhappy grumble is directed his way, and Merlin remembers his order.

Uther twists the chain around Merlin’s wrists, creating a figure eight. He does this again and again until only a few feet of chain are left. When he goes to hook the chain to the middle brass ring, Merlin has to scoot back or suffer an unpleasant stretch of his arms. Uther slaps him. The pain hitches Merlin’s breath, and a red mark slowly appears on Merlin’s arm, past the curve of his elbow.  “Remember, no moving.”

Merlin does remember. So he watches instead. Uther stretches out and picks up the oil. His muscles ripple under his tunic and the tendons in his exposed forearms tighten. The cork pops out with ease and Uther tilts the vial until the golden oil dribbles onto his fingers. He doesn’t stop until all his fingers are glistening. Then he sets the vial back down and shifts back over to Merlin. Uther’s large hand closes around Merlin’s cock. Merlin’s stomach quakes and he loses his breath. Uther gives two more strokes- enough to leave Merlin dizzy- and stops.  

                _He’s going to kill me, _Merlin thinks then shudders as Uther’s hand slips lower. A finger breaches him, entering smoother than last time. It still burns, but it’s manageable. A few strokes there have Merlin squeezing his eyes shut and praying his magic doesn’t set the bed on fire. Two fingers replace the one then something else replaces them. At first Merlin thinks Uther has entered him, but when Merlin opens his eyes he sees Uther is still fully dressed. His gaze drifts downwards, but he’s at the wrong angle and can make out nothing.

                “It’s a plug. I had it specially made for you.” Uther states like he’s talking about dinner. Merlin flushes red- or _redder- _at the thought of someone making a butt plug for him. He wonders if it’s Keenith, the local carpenter. It feels big inside of him, though not as big as he imagines Uther to be.  An experimental clench sends a spike of pleasure along his nerves. Uther slaps him again.

                The king puts his hands on Merlin’s shoulders and guides him onto his stomach. The chain-links click, drawing Merlin’s attention. It only takes lifting his head an inch to see them. He wiggles his fingers and sees the movement through the links. Sheets ruffle as Uther slides of the bed. Merlin has the wrong viewpoint to see anything other than what’s in front of him. He hears the sound of a drawer opening then closing, and then Uther‘s weight is dipping the bed again.

                He hears the whistle, the whip cutting through air, before he feels the sting. It’s a short, flat strap, and despite its small size, it leaves a red welt against Merlin’s back. Three more strikes come in quick progression; each one licks a line of fire down his skin. Tears prick his eyes, and Merlin can’t decide if what he’s feeling is regret or excitement.  After ten strikes, Merlin can’t stay still. He squirms away from the whip, blood pounding in his ears, metal chain biting his wrists.

                It takes Merlin a minute to realize the lashings have stopped. The pressure against his neck turns out to be Uther’s calloused hand. Uther rubs his thumb over and over at the apex of Merlin’s neckline. Calm settles inside Merlin’s chest, and for the first time he feels the hard pressure his erection pushing into his stomach. Pre-come decorates the spot where the tip touches his abdomen. The plug is pressing into something within him; a spot that makes chocolate seem like an ordinary delight. Uther’s runs his hand across Merlin’s back, over the tender lash marks, and shocking pleasure rips him apart. Tremors upon tremors of orgasm overwhelm his senses until he can feel nothing but the burning heat of Uther’s skin and metal links of the chain.

                An arm embraces him; Uther presses against his back. The touch of skin upon skin brings Merlin back from his release, and he dully notices that Uther has taken off his shirt. Delicious bits of pain run through his body as Uther bears down upon him. He can’t catch his breath, and his heart wants to jump out of his chest. “That was beautiful,” Uther whispers. A wave of sleepiness enfolds Merlin and his eyes feel heavy. Just as Merlin was about to drift away, Uther nips at his shoulder and says cruelly, “Too bad you moved.”

 


End file.
